


what are you willing to do?

by aknightley



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 07:57:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7631584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aknightley/pseuds/aknightley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"This is such a bad idea," Lance says, running his hands down Keith's sides and jerking his shirt out of his pants. </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	what are you willing to do?

**Author's Note:**

> This sure is a thing that happened! I don't recall seeing any fic of them having sex in the pilot seat of one of the lions, so I kind of had to jump on it. Part of me is still in denial that this is happening. Please practice safe sex, kids. 
> 
> Title from Rihanna's song, "Kiss It Better."

This is such a bad idea.

Lance pushes Keith so hard his head slams into the back of the pilot's seat, and he gives him maybe a second to recover from the impact before he covers that pretty red mouth with his own, tilting his head to deepen the kiss when Keith makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. He's in Keith's lap, legs on either side of Keith's thighs, bent almost in half to keep level with his face. Around them, the Red Lion is almost too quiet, making the slick, wet noises of their kisses louder than they really are. It's almost distracting, except Keith pulls back to look at him, and then Lance can't see anything else but those dark eyes, long lashes on flushed cheeks. 

"Lance," Keith murmurs, but doesn't seem to want to say anything else; he just digs his fingertips into Lance's shoulders and pulls him flat against him so that their bodies are one long, warm line, touching everywhere. Sweat springs up on the back of Lance's neck.

"This is such a bad idea," Lance says, running his hands down Keith's sides and jerking his shirt out of his pants. Keith lifts his hips to make it easier, which just bumps them against each other. Both of them are flushed pink and breathing heavily, and they've barely even done anything. Lance's whole body is tight with heat and tension; he wants to do so many things to Keith, and he doesn't know where to start. 

"It was your idea," Keith reminds him, and then bites Lance's lower lip sharply, grinning when Lance groans and grinds down into him. They both gasp into each other's mouths, trading damp, hot puffs of air while they rub against each other. There's not enough room in the chair for Lance to put his hands behind Keith, so he slips his hands up his shirt and runs them over his stomach, dizzy when Keith shivers feverishly and presses into him.

"Then this is the best idea," Lance says, and licks his way over to Keith's jawline, nipping so that it blooms red over pale skin, continuing his way down to Keith's neck. 

"We're gonna get caught," Keith says, tilting his head to give Lance room. His hands go into Lance's hair and cling, and the slight pull makes Lance's stomach go liquid, which was something he hadn't known about himself until five seconds ago. He has a flash of sliding out of Keith's lap and onto his knees, Keith sprawled in the pilot's seat, legs spread wide, fingers still tight in Lance's hair. His mind whites out at the image. "The others will - ah!" 

Lance soothes the bite he'd just made with his tongue and then seals his mouth over it again and sucks, which makes Keith's breath hiccup in his throat. He keeps making that same sound -- _ah ah ah_  -- over and over, and it's driving Lance crazy. He leans back a little, admiring the dark red bruise already forming on Keith's pale neck. Keith's eyes are closed tight, chest heaving, biting at his lower lip hard enough that there's a divot in it. His hair is disheveled, curling up over his neck and sticking to his cheeks.

"Oh my fucking god," Lance says, dazed, "You're so hot." 

It slips out before he can stop it, but it's not like he doesn't mean it. It's just embarrassing to actually admit it, that he thinks that Keith, _Keith_ , is so gorgeous he can barely keep his hands off him during the day, much less when they're pressed together like they are now. Keith's entire face goes pink and he lets out a small noise that might be a laugh, and he pulls his hands out of Lance's hair -- _noooo,_  Lance thinks -- to touch his own neck where it's still damp from Lance's mouth. His eyes are dark and his pupils are blown wide as he looks at Lance.  

He opens his mouth and Lance braces for the teasing, because they rarely let an opportunity to fuck with each other pass by, but Keith just licks his lips and says, "You should fuck me." 

Lance's whole body flames, and a choked noise escapes him before he can hold it in. Keith leans back in the seat, mouth curved in a lazy smile, like he knows that Lance's head is imploding and it's kind of funny. Normally Lance would be annoyed at that smirk, but right now he wants to kiss it, so he does. Keith's mouth opens for him immediately, and they end up shifting enough that Lance can plant a knee between Keith's thighs so they can press together properly. The feeling of Keith's thigh against his dick is enough to make Lance pull away from the kiss so he can curse into Keith's hair.

"What happened," he says, grinding hard enough that Keith keens a little, "to 'we're gonna get caught,' hmm?" 

Keith's body tenses beneath him, and Lance thinks _fuck, I fucked up_ , but then Keith is pushing him back, up out of his lap, until he's standing against the console, crowding after him so he can press up against him again. The different angle lets them line up better, and hello, there's Keith's dick, hard and hot through his pants and rubbing over Lance's dick. 

"Fuck it," Keith says firmly, and then drops his hands to Lance's zipper. 

Keith's hands are deft and his movements are jerky as he unbuttons Lance's pants and sticks his hand into the front. The dry warmth of his palm wraps around Lance's dick and he says, overwhelmed, "Keith, Keith, _fuck_." 

Keith's eyes flash to his, and fond amusement flickers in them. "Yes," he says patiently, "That's the plan."

"Oh fuck you," Lance groans, shifting his hips so that his dick slides through Keith's loose grasp -- Keith tightens his hand a little, runs his thumb over the head, and lights flash behind Lance's closed eyelids. "You're, you're so--"

"Hot?" Keith suggests innocently, grinning widely even while he's _jerking Lance off_ , which is completely unacceptable, so Lance grabs hold of his hips and turns them around, pushing Keith against the control panel, keeps pushing until Keith is bent over backwards. His hands fall out of Lance's pants as he's moved, which is kind of sad, but Keith is now kind of at his mercy, which is absolutely great. 

Keith's eyes are wide, but they close when Lance leans over and kisses him hard, raising his hand to Keith's neck to push his thumb into the bruise there. Keith's whole body twitches and he gasps, which Lance takes advantage of, slipping his tongue into Keith's mouth. Their kiss turns slick and hot, and they spend several long moments just pushing back and forth against each other, neither willing to back down. Lance cheats, sneaking a hand between their bodies and pressing his palm to Keith's dick through his pants. Keith wrenches his mouth away from Lance's so he can swear. 

"Lance," he says shakily, "Please." 

Lance feels his smile unfurl from each corner of his mouth. _Gotcha_. He unzips Keith's pants, tugging his dick out of the opening. Keith's body is practically vibrating beneath his, hot like a fire trapped underneath him. Lance locks eyes with Keith and then slowly, slowly, slides down his body, landing gently on his knees at Keith's feet. Keith props himself up on his elbows on the panel, mouth open. He looks absolutely wrecked, which Lance decides is how he should look all the time, forever.

"Please what?" Lance asks, rubbing his thumb along the base of Keith's dick, not even bothering to hide his smirk. Keith drops his hands into Lance's hair and _pulls_ , hard, and Lance feels his own dick pulse, precome slipping down onto the floor. He tries to keep from making noise, but a whine slips out of his throat. 

" _Please_ suck my dick," Keith growls, tugging again for emphasis, and who is Lance to deny someone who asks so nicely? 

He doesn't bother playing coy, because they're both so worked up; he just opens his mouth and swallows around Keith's dick, pinning his hips against the control panel when he tries to buck up. He can hear Keith babbling above him, Lance's name and curse words in English and what sounds like Korean, but he puts it out of his head, focused on giving the best head Keith's ever had. He pulls back, dragging his tongue along the underside, letting Keith push gently against his tongue with the head of his dick once he's almost completely off. The taste is slightly bitter, which would normally be gross, but something about Keith's twitching fingers, the sweat sliding down the curve of his back, the fact that they're in Keith's _lion_  right now -- Lance is so turned on he can barely stand it, wishes he had a free hand to touch himself with.

He keeps his grip on Keith though, angles himself to swallow him back down again, giving Keith more and more leeway to push into his mouth. He chances a glance up, eyes catching on the hollows of Keith's hipbones and the long, smooth planes of his stomach, where they've managed to push Keith's shirt up in all their fumbling. Keith's head is tilted back, so Lance can't quite see his face, but he can see his open mouth, his long neck with that bruise high enough that there's no way he'll be able to hide it. The thought has Lance possessively tightening his hands around Keith's hips. 

Lance loses himself in the moment, relishing Keith's high pitched gasps and the way every now and then, if he scrapes his teeth gently along his length, Keith will pull his hair and cry out -- the sounds of Keith falling apart are rapidly becoming Lance's favorite thing in the universe. He's contemplating letting Keith push all the way into his throat when he feels hands pulling at his hair again, more urgently, less in a 'you're making me feel so good, Lance' kind of way. He pulls off, swallowing.  

"Yes?" Lance asks impatiently, voice hoarse, because he was kind of in the middle of something, but Keith just keeps pulling him, up, up, until he's standing again. Lance barely has time to realize what's happening before he's being shoved back, falling into the pilot's chair with very little grace. Keith pauses to kick his own pants off, not bothering with his shirt, before crawling into his lap. 

"I told you what I wanted earlier," Keith says, palming Lance's pants -- it takes him a moment to realize Keith is patting his pockets, looking for lube. He wants to be offended that Keith is assuming he has stuff on him, but the truth is, since they started this _thing_  between them, he's taken to carrying it around everywhere just in case something like this happens, so he doesn't really have the moral high ground. He sends a fervent thank you to past-Lance when Keith makes a pleased noise and pulls the small container of lube out of his front pocket. 

"It's not like you were complaining," Lance says, watching Keith coat his own fingers and then reach around, arching his back to make the angle better. Over his shoulder, the screen is showing the inside of the hangar, where all of the lions are crowded around them, motionless and silent. He flushes hotter at the reminder that they're doing this in a semi-public place, that any second someone could come into the room to check on things and catch them. 

Keith lets out a long, drawn out moan, pulling Lance's attention back to the inside of the lion. He can't see anything like this, just Keith's shirt stretched tight across his chest, the blush riding high on his cheekbones, the sweat sliding down the side of his neck -- it's completely unfair, so he moves his hands from where they'd been resting on Keith's waist to push his fingers alongside Keith's.

He's already two deep, so Lance gives him a second to realize what's happening and then pushes a finger into Keith -- Keith's breath sobs out and he clenches hard, wobbling in Lance's lap. His hand falls away from his hole as he reaches up to brace himself on Lance's shoulders with both hands, which makes him let out a soft unhappy noise, so Lance takes the opportunity to push two more fingers back into Keith, filling him up again. Keith _shouts_ , eyes flying wide open and locking helplessly on Lance's face as his body trembles above him. Lance twists his fingers in deeper, darkly pleased when he brushes something that has Keith's breath punching out of him.

His fingers are digging into Lance's shoulders, and he mindlessly lifts and lowers himself on Lance's hand for a moment, chasing the sensation -- Lance deliberately angles his fingers to only brush against his prostate a few times, just because he can. It drives Keith crazy, which was the goal, but also means that Keith is bouncing harder and harder on his dick, which is also torturing Lance. 

"Enough," Keith finally snaps, reaching back to pull Lance's hand away, lifting himself up higher on his knees. "Fucking -- fucking come on, Lance, please, come _on_." He sounds completely desperate, which would be grounds for a hundred _years_  of teasing, if Lance weren't about to explode with frustration and desire himself. He grabs his dick, running a hand over it to slick it, and positions himself underneath Keith, whose legs are trembling as he lowers himself down.

The heat alone almost makes him come, but the expression on Keith's face is actually killing him. Keith's soft, plush mouth is wide open, and his hands are clenching and unclenching on Lance's shoulders as he moves inch by inch, and he looks so incandescently _,_ viciously _pleased_ , like this is the best thing that's ever happened to him. Lance feels his heart pound sporadically at that expression, caught off guard with how much he likes being the person to make Keith look that way, almost dizzy with how much he wants to be the _only_  person to make Keith look that way. He bottoms out and they freeze for a moment, absorbing the sensation, locked on a precipice together.

Then Keith raises himself up and drops back down again, and Lance's heart stops. 

" _Fuck_ ," he groans, and Keith huffs out a wild laugh and lifts himself again, slow, agonizingly slow, and then slams back down again. They both curse this time. Keith builds the momentum, twisting his hips back and forth, grinding down on Lance's dick over and over again until Lance is a shaking mess beneath him. 

Lance has accepted that he's probably going to die, because who could ever live through this? The feeling of Keith wrapped tight around him, everything wet and hot and slick, is almost too much to deal with, but if he's going to die, he's gonna do it taking Keith with him. He gathers his strength, and when Keith goes to slam down again, he jerks his hips up to meet him, pushing deeper than he has so far. 

Keith _wails_ , loud enough that it echoes in the chamber. He lowers his head to press his forehead against Lance's, practically sobbing as Lance meets him again and again, trying to hit that perfect angle. His mouth is trembling and he jerks in Lance's arms every time he drops down, but he doesn't stop riding him as hard as he can, desperation edging out any semblance of control either of them had. 

Lance can feel it building in his gut, like a fire spreading across an oil spill -- his stomach is clenching tightly, he's gonna come, but he holds off with everything in him, wanting to stay like this just a little bit longer. His grip on Keith's hips falters, sweat making it hard to hold on, so he moves his hands to Keith's ass, trying to keep supporting him so he doesn't fall out of Lance's lap. His hand slips down, and he holds his breath and rubs a finger up against Keith's stretched hole, where he can feel himself sliding in and out. 

" _Oh_ ," Keith says, voice tight with emotion, shifting a little. Lance buries his face in Keith's chest and edges his finger into Keith alongside his dick, and Keith goes completely still above him, clenching tight, and then comes with a silent scream, hard enough that some of it splatters onto Lance's neck. 

Lance thrusts up into Keith's heaving body a few more times, gasping for breath; he pulls his hand away from Keith's ass so he can use both of them to jerk Keith down until Lance is as deep as he can go, and shouts his release into his shirt, struggling to muffle the sounds coming out of his mouth. Keith's arms wrap around him, holding him still while he shakes through the aftershocks, winding his fingers through his hair.

They spend several long minutes regaining their breath, and when Lance can finally feel the flush receding from his body, he leans back to take stock of the situation. Keith is wearing only a shirt and his socks, still sitting in Lance's lap with Lance's dick in his ass, occasionally shifting around and making the both of them shiver. Lance hadn't even gotten out of his clothes at all, which means his shirt is a mess of come and sweat and lube where Keith had gripped it. The screen behind Keith has fogged up slightly, which hopefully isn't visible to anyone outside, but is vaguely hilarious. Lance is just about to make a Titanic reference when Keith sucks in a breath and lifts up off of Lance.

They both make a face at the sensation, but then Keith flushes all over again. Lance is about to ask him when he realizes that there's _come_  leaking down the insides of Keith's thighs, which is so hot that his dick twitches against his thigh. Keith eyes him, unimpressed. 

"Don't even think about it," he says, gently lowering himself to sit on Lance's legs, wincing. He wiggles a little, which is not helping Lance _not_  want to fuck him again, and says, "This is kind of gross." He doesn't sound too put out, more curious than anything, so Lance doesn't feel too bad. He does have the urge to reach around and push his come back into Keith's hole, but he kind of thinks Keith might punch him, and they're having a decent afterglow. Better not.

"So," he says, waggling his eyebrows, "Still think it was a bad idea?"

"You thought it was a bad idea," Keith says, rolling his eyes. "I said we were gonna get caught. Which we still could," he adds, but he doesn't make any attempt to move away. He smooths his fingertips over Lance's shoulders, smiling a little. Lance's stomach squirms pleasantly at that smile, and he leans in to kiss it before he can stop himself.

Keith presses back immediately, but it stays soft and sweet, Keith's hands coming up to frame Lance's jaw. When they pull apart again, Keith's eyes stay closed and he looks peaceful, even with his messy hair and the hickey darkening on the side of his neck; Lance looks at him and feels his heart flip over in his chest.

 _Oh fuck_ , Lance thinks. _This was a bad idea_. 

Out loud, he says, "We should clean up. Uh, before someone does come in." His voice is thankfully level, even though he kind of feels like he's having a mental breakdown.

Keith stretches his arms above his head, back arching. He looks ridiculously attractive, even with the grimy shirt and sweaty hair. _Fuuuuuck_ , Lance thinks. He was not supposed to start _feeling_  things like this. That had _not_ been part of the plan. The plan had been lots of great sex, in as many places as he could convince Keith to have it. Not butterflies in his stomach and skipping heartbeats just because Keith is sitting gorgeous and blissful in his lap. Lance sternly tells his heart to get its shit together.

After the longest stretch in the history of stretches, Keith finally gets up off his lap, looking around for his pants. Lance watches him bend over to grab them off the ground, subtly checking out his ass while he tucks himself back into his own pants. His shirt is kind of a lost cause, but he left his jacket at the entrance of the Red Lion's mouth, so he can cover up with that. 

Keith, on the other hand, has no way to hide what's gone down. The sex hair would be bad enough, but the mark on his neck is still flushed a deep red, and not even the high collar of his cropped jacket can cover it up. When Lance stands up out of the chair, he impulsively finds himself touching the mark, pressing gently to watch it turn white under his fingertips. Keith makes a noise deep in his throat, and Lance goes red and pulls away. 

"Sorry," he says. "That was -- sorry." He doesn't know if he's apologizing for making the mark so noticeable or for touching it now. His stomach is still fluttering a little.

Keith hums, looking intently at Lance for a moment, contemplative. He touches his own neck gently and a slow smile curls his lips. Lance thinks weakly, once again, _fuck._  

"We should clean up together," Keith decides, and he reaches out and takes Lance's hand in his own, pulling him out of the cockpit toward the exit. Lance stumbles a little, squeezing Keith's hand automatically, and Keith laces their fingers together. "Your shower is nicer than mine."

Lance looks down at their intertwined hands, then back up at Keith, who is avoiding his eyes but still smiling. They step out of Red's open mouth, pausing to grab Lance's jacket on the way. "Our showers are the same, I just have actual shampoo." 

"Whatever," Keith says, shrugging, still pulling him along. "It makes more sense to share." 

His voice is carefully casual, but Lance can see the way he swallows as they step around the corner, out of the hangar, back into the real world. Keith is still avoiding his gaze. 

Lance looks down at their hands again, looks at Keith's messy hair and pretty eyes and rumpled clothes; he feels like he's falling off a cliff, but suddenly it's not terrifying. He takes a deep breath and pulls Keith's hand, jerking him closer. Keith looks warily at him from under his lashes. 

"Makes sense to me," Lance says, and then kisses him on the nose. Keith blinks, then goes bright pink. "Aww," Lance says, grinning, completely unsurprised when Keith shoves him. 

"This _was_  a bad idea," Keith says grumpily, but his mouth is still curved, and he's still holding Lance's hand. 

"Nah," Lance says cheerfully. "It was the best."  He tightens his grip on Keith and follows him as they walk down the hall together, pressed together and still smiling. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [my tumblr!](http://apvrrish.tumblr.com) Also I'm trying to use my twitter again, find me [@apvrrish](http://twitter.com/apvrrish).


End file.
